


surrender my heart, body, and soul

by enablelove



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Schmoop, attempts at humor, confessions of a not so emotionally constipated werewolf, stiles loves the werewolf okay?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-20 23:01:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1528928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enablelove/pseuds/enablelove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You said he was like an onion with lots of layers that you wanted to peel off."</p>
<p>Stiles missed Derek and Derek somehow shows up and hears him rhapsodizing about him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	surrender my heart, body, and soul

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow the idea of Stiles going on and on about Derek to his friends at college and Derek overhearing managed to lodge itself in my brain and wouldn't leave. Uh, enjoy? Gentle, fandom, my first fic for this pairing.

“Why did you guys let me drink so much?” Stiles groaned out, voice muffled as his head was currently residing on the cool metal table. He was at his favorite coffeehouse with his friends from Berkley and they were all in a similar state – hungover and needing caffeine (intravenously preferably). 

“Stop talking so loud,” Zoey said, clenching her head in agony. Stiles ignored her as usual. It was par for the course for the friends he had made. Somehow, he had managed to find a group of people at college that reminded him of his friends back in Beacon Hills – down to the resident grump of the group, Hudson. 

“No, but seriously. How in the world did we get so drunk last night? We haven’t done that since freshman year!” Stiles said, finally lifting his face, regrettably, from the table. 

“I blame you,” Charlotte told him, squinting at Stiles in between slow sips of her coffee. 

“Me?” Stiles was offended. He couldn’t remember egging the others on to drink like they had just touched alcohol for the first time. 

“You,” Adrian agreed, backing up Charlotte’s claims, the fucker. “You were whining about it being exactly two years since you had seen the sourwolf, whoever that is.”

Stiles blushed. Okay, so maybe it was his fault. And maybe drinking too much makes him maudlin. And maybe he missed Derek. Whatever. It’s not like Derek cared or was around, still MIA for all Stiles knew. 

“Shut up.” Such a brilliant comeback. 

The whole group rolled their eyes at Stiles, used to his antics by now. One by one they all chimed in with declarations made by Stiles last night.

“You said he was like an onion with lots of layers that you wanted to peel off,” Charlotte said, squinty eyes gone and replaced by a smug grin. 

“And that grumpy cat could learn a thing or two from him because although he was cranky on the outside, he was squishy on the inside,” Zoey said, leaning on the table and smirking at Stiles. 

“You also appealed to any higher powers about why they gave him such magnificent stubble on his already perfect face,” Hudson said, joining in.

“You guys are the worst,” Stiles accused.

“So why is mystery man only talked about when you’re way past drunk?” Adrian asked. Of course Adrian would be the one that asked – the Berkley version of Scott. God, he missed his best friend.

_Because that’s the only time I let myself think about him,_ Stiles wanted to say. Instead, he only shrugged. 

“Derek, medium shot in the dark ready at the bar!” rang out from the barista’s mouth and Stiles froze. No. There was more than one Derek in the world. Obviously. So what if the name still gave Stiles chills up and down his back? He turned his head carefully, just in case. He knew there was no way Derek would be here, but it was habit by now to look and make sure whenever Derek’s name was heard.

At the bar, Stiles only saw the back of the guy’s head. He was well muscled, that much was obvious even through the leather jacket. Shit. Stiles felt like was hyperventilating a little bit. No, this wasn’t possible. Of all the coffee shops in the world?

The guy turned then to face him and yup – there it was. The stubble of doom. The grumpy cat expression. Stiles was ruined. The asshole had gotten even hotter in the twenty-four months since he last saw him. An eyebrow raised in his direction as well as the quick flash of beautiful beta blue eyes. Derek tilted his head toward the corner of the coffeehouse and Stiles turned to see an empty table. May as well get the embarrassment over with. 

He looked back and nodded to Derek before turning towards his friends who were all just staring at him.

“Uh, be right back,” he said and all but fled to the corner table, making sure to bring his precious coffee with him. 

“Derek!” He exclaimed when he finally reached the table. “What a surprise!” 

“Stiles,” Derek said, and god, had Stiles missed that voice. Somehow in the course of saving each other’s lives and all the other shit that went down in Beacon Hills (ghosts, ghouls, freakin’ _ogres_ ), Stiles had come to respect the man in front of him. Then, one day in the summer before Stiles’ junior year of college, Derek just left without a backward glance. Scott said he went to go figure things out and would always be part of the pack, but Beacon Hills felt unprotected and wrong without him there. And that’s when Stiles realized he was in the deep end of the love pool – or some other sappy cliché. 

“What brings you to Berkley?” Stiles asked, really wanting to say _why’d you leave? Why’d you leave me?_

“I wanted to come and talk to you, but I didn’t realize it would be this easy. I smelled the delicious coffee and wanted some and then heard some interesting conversation happening in the corner.” The side of Derek’s mouth tilted up in a half smirk and damn did that look good on his face. They were civil now, threats only made half-heartedly and jokingly. The whole Nogitsune thing seemed to bring everyone together and working as a team, and Stiles had actually seen a real smile from Derek. Maybe that was the moment he fell in love. 

Stiles wanted to hide his face all over again and could feel the flush climbing up his cheeks. It’s not like he could deny it - his friends weren’t shouting, but with Derek’s sensitive ears, there’s no way he misheard. 

“I plead the fifth?” Stiles said hopefully. “You wanted to talk to me? What happened? You okay? Cora?” Stiles was flitting through his memory to see if Scott had mentioned anything or if Lydia had, who had somehow managed to be friends with Cora and remained in touch with her. 

“Everything is fine, Stiles, but I felt like I owe you an explanation. I was on my way back to Beacon Hills, but wanted to make a quick pit stop here before you were surprised once you got home.” Derek had also become a bit less emotionally constipated than before, learning to let out his thoughts and not let them fester. Didn’t mean it wasn’t weird hearing him talk for long periods of time. 

“Explanation? For?”

“Me leaving. I know I hurt you when I didn’t keep in contact and I wanted to apologize for it.” Derek was being sincere, Stiles could tell, but Stiles could never back down from dishing it.

“You’re apologizing? Oh god, is hell finally freezing over?”

Derek rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee. Right, coffee. Stiles took long sips from his cup, tilting it up to catch the beloved remnants, neck tilted back. When he finally righted himself, he saw Derek’s gaze quickly glance away and his own flush creep up his face. Interesting. Maybe this love thing wasn’t as hopeless as he had lamented about. 

“I know we had gotten pretty close right before I left and it wasn’t fair to you for me to just up and go. I just…had some eye opening things explained to me and needed to go figure some things out,” Derek continued, not quite meeting Stiles’ eyes. 

“Way to be vague, man,” Stiles said, racking his brain for what could have happened. 

“Remember the ogres?” Derek said, and it looked like he was bolstering himself for this conversation.

“Uh huh,” Stiles said, urging him on but not saying much else because it seemed like Derek was trying to get this all out in one breath and Stiles wasn’t going to stop him by interrupting. 

“Well, when you got knocked out and I thought you were dead rather than unconscious, my body felt like it went through an epiphany. My life seemed to flash before my eyes and the only other time that had happened was with the fire. I knew I couldn’t lose you too and when it turned out you were okay, I knew that you wouldn’t want to be with someone as damaged as I was, and so I needed to fix it.”

Stiles was astounded. Yeah, he remembered the haunted look in Derek’s eyes when Stiles finally woke up, but he figured that was a pack member thing rather than whatever this was.

“So I disappeared and traveled to different packs and therapists, back to New York for a bit, and learned to heal and have more than the emotional range of a teaspoon.” The last part was said with a grin, which made Stiles automatically smile. He had lobbed that insult at Derek a time or two and Derek always shot back that he wasn’t an oblivious redhead. 

“I’m not perfect, and won’t ever be, but I want to try. With you.” He let out a huge gust of air, like he had no more words left in him and honestly, Stiles didn’t need anymore. He leaned over and kissed the mouth that had been frequenting his dreams for years because it really was that simple. Sure, they’d probably talk and fight like hell and the make up sex would be glorious, but for now, a kiss was all that was necessary. 

“Yes.”


End file.
